172 1HE P3ETRY OF FLOWERS. 
And still may thy tranquil and delicate shade 
Yield fragiance and solace to me; 
For though all the flowers in my garden should 
fade, 
My heart will repose upon thee. 
-♦- 
ON A FADED VIOLET. 
BY SHELLEY. 
The odour from the flower is gone 
Which, like thy kisses, breathed on me; 
The colour from the flower is flown, 
Which glow’d of thee, and only thee! 
V shrivel’d, lifeless, vacant form, 
It lies on my abandon’d breast, 
Ind mocks the heart, which yet is warm, 
With cold and silent rest. 
1 weep, —my tears revive it not! 
I sigh,—it breathes no more on me; 
ru mute and uncomplaining lot 
la such as mine should be 
